My son J is a third grader and doesn’t seem to be growing out of his picky-eater stage.

I’m always slightly embarrassed to admit that there are nights when I make the poor kid cry; he’ll come into the kitchen and ask what we’re having for dinner, and more than likely it’s not what he’s really hoping for: a Steak ‘n Shake cheeseburger or his all-time favorite home-cooked meal, Pasta Carbonara. That’s when his outraged tears flow and I feel like throwing in my cooking towel.

I mean, I go to all the trouble to make family dinners from scratch and he breaks down and sobs as if he’s being tortured? I have to remind myself that this is a stage he will grow out of soon enough. How nice that there is already a hopeful sign that he’s well on the way to expanding his culinary horizons: the boy loves soup.

For some reason, he will happily devour most of the foods he detests if there are in the form of soup, so I’ve taken to hauling out the old tureen lately. It’s nice that the autumn weather is finally here – hot soup is something we all like to eat on a busy weeknight. We’ve had versions of our favorite Roasted Sweet Potato Soup along with plain old chicken noodle.

I have to admit that he did pick the shrimp out of this chowder (more for us!) but he lapped the remains of his bowl greedily.

Now I better start thinking about the next thing I can turn into soup before he catches on!

Heat the oil or butter in a large pot or heavy saucepan. Add the leeks and garlic and cook over medium-low heat until softened, stirring occasionally. Stir in the thyme, andouille and Cajun seasoning and cook until sausage is seared on all sides.

Pour in the chicken stock and bring to a boil; add the potatoes and slightly cover the pot. Cook until the potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes.

When the potatoes are done, pour in milk and bring to a gentle simmer; if it gets too thick add more stock or water.

Add the shrimp and cook until they turn pink.

Taste the chowder for seasoning and add salt, black or cayenne pepper to taste.

Somewhere around 6 pm on a summer day – or any day – is when I get thirsty for a cold grown-up drink- I usually stick to chilled rosè or light refreshing whites like pinot gris, sauvignon blanc, and my recent favorite, gruner veltliner, to sip while I cook dinner. It’s a relaxing ritual, and I find myself looking forward to it daily – sometimes a little too much if you know what I mean (and I think you do!).

I’ve been known to sling cold summer cocktails every now and again, though, and the other night I decided to experiment with sake.

I like the idea of using sake in place of a hard liquor like vodka or gin – I’d rather drink a cocktail without feeling the toxic effects of high-proof alcohol, which is sometimes too much for me. Sake can contain a little more alcohol than wine; about 15% or more by volume, but that’s still less than distilled liquor.

Sake also has a lightly sweet, delicate nature that plays nicely with things you might want to mix it with, like fruit juices, liqueurs and fresh herbal infusions.

I wouldn’t use an expensive, premium sake to make a cocktail, since you’ll be missing its finer qualities, not to mention that the sake purists out there would cringe – just use what you can find for less than $20 a bottle.

I’m caught up in Julia Child fever {so much so that I’ve started a new blog – visit Dinner with Julia and follow me as I dive into Julia’s recipes}; the movie Julie & Julia is opening this weekend and I’m not ashamed to say that I will be standing in line for a ticket. I’ve read that Meryl Streep has captured the best of what we love about Julia, from her warbly, exuberant voice to her healthy physical lust for her husband.

Is it because some of the recipes in Mastering are stuck in a bit of a time warp?

Browsing through the book, I see recipes that speak to another time, a time before crème fraîche became a staple in the grocery store and we knew not to cook a piece of pork to within an inch of its life: cold chicken aspic decorated with slivers of canned pimiento, veal Prince Orloff and crepes filled with boiled, canned pineapple. In my mind I draw a caricature of the 1960’s American housewife that Julia was writing for – a perfectly coiffed woman about to throw a dinner party in her sprawling suburban ranch house, wearing a bullet bra, Jackie O skirt suit and smoking a long cigarette, like a character from the television show Mad Men.

But in between the thick, cream-colored pages of Julia’s tome are a multitude of other classic recipes and techniques that will never go out of style or fail to please – her precise directions for making homemade mayonnaise, perfect rolled omelets and puffy souffles are what make Mastering the Art of French Cooking stand alone on the cookbook shelf.

I chose to make the bouillabaisse (page 52) the other day, along with a rouille sauce to smear on crusty toasted bread.

Bouillabaisse is a Provençal fish soup, and Julia stresses the importance of keeping it simple; the broth is fortified with lots of seafood shells and trimmings (available for less than a dollar a pound at your fish counter) and flavored with the typical flavors of the region: garlic, saffron, olive oil and tomatoes.

The soup was outstanding and I like how it had something for everyone at my table (picky children among them) – delicious broth, different kinds of fish and seafood, and a big hunk of bread to soak up every drop in the bowl.

The simplicity and authentic taste of this recipe is what Julia Child is all about to me. It also defines how I love to cook.

Julia says it best:

This is the kind of food I had fallen in love with: not trendy, souped-up fantasies, just something very good to eat….the ingredients have been carefully selected and beautifully and knowingly prepared. Or, in the words of the famous gastronome Curnonsky, “Food that tastes of what it is”. (from My Life in France)

Heat the oil in a tall pot (I used an 8 quart stockpot) over medium heat; add the onion and leek and cook gently until softened. Stir in the garlic and cook for a minute until fragrant, then add the tomatoes, water, herbs, saffron, salt and fish bones. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat so that the broth bubbles slowly without boiling.

Cook 30 minutes, then strain the broth into a large bowl or another pot and discard the solids.

Pour the broth back into the stockpot and bring to a boil. Add the shrimp and cook until they turn pink, a minute or two. Add the rest of the fish and shellfish, cover and simmer until the mussels or clams open. Taste the soup and add more salt and freshly ground pepper if needed.

For the Rouille:

Puree everything except for the olive oil in a food processor until smooth. Slowly add the olive oil while processing to form a paste.